One in the Same
by Metasapphire
Summary: A collection of one-shots surrounding the complex yet intriguing father-daughter relationship between Sasuke and Sarada. The two share more than just their looks; they share a bond that is compromised by circumstances. See as Sarada grows to understand her father's duty as a shinobi and accept what he does as a sacrifice.
1. Chapter 1

a/n: Here it is. This will be a collection of one-shots surrounding the complex yet intriguing father-daughter relationship between Sasuke and Sarada. You will see that the two share more than just their looks. The shots are not connected in plot, but the same themes remain: family, sacrifice, father-daughter bond, and forgiveness. See as Sarada grows to understand her father's duty as a shinobi and accept what he does as a sacrifice.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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"You're leaving?" Sarada's voice held a slight quiver and her eyes darted away from his. Sasuke could tell by her knitting brows and pouting lips she was holding back tears. He hated seeing that face on her and he hated it more that it was there because of him.

His eyes went to Sakura for help, and reflexively she knelt down beside their daughter, a warm smile playing on her lips as she held both of Sarada's hands in hers.

"Sarada," Sakura began, the softness in her tone was enough to ease some of Sarada's stress. "Papa will be back before you know it."

Why couldn't he have said that? He wanted to connect with his daughter, show her he was the man she envisioned him to be, but even now he had to rely on Sakura's uncanny ability to absolve tension, he couldn't even comfort his own daughter.

Sarada nodded at Sakura's words, her eyes no longer glazed. She looked up at Sasuke as if waiting for him to add to Sakura's words.

When all he did was stare back at her with unreadable eyes, her expression flit from disappointment to anger.

"Why do you always leave?" The words stung Sasuke, but he said nothing. He said nothing because he didn't have an answer appropriate enough for her. He couldn't have admitted to her that he left to kill Bingo ranked criminals and to clear the outside perimeters of the village from powerful enemies. That wasn't her burden to know it was his.

"Sarada," he managed. "It isn't any of your concern."

Her eyes went wide for a second before narrowing with resentment. "Of course, it isn't, my well-being isn't any of yours either."

"Sarada," Sakura chided. "That is not true..."

Hatred filled Sarada's eyes and Sasuke couldn't help but notice how the hatred burning through her black eyes resembled his when he was her age.

His eyes hadn't left hers, they were searching for understanding—forgiveness. But the hatred was ever prevalent in the young Uchiha's large onyx eyes framed by thin red glasses. When Sasuke went to kneel beside her, to make better eye contact, Sarada had stepped back creating a wider chasm of space between them.

"Sarada," he started, his voice far less angry than what it should have been. "I know you're angry—"

Sasuke stood straight as he watched his little girl sprinting away, her form disappearing behind a tall building. It's all he could do but run after her and explain to her why he must do what he does. That what he does is for her and Sakura. She wouldn't understand, though. She was too young to understand the reason he wasn't around was not because he didn't love her or care for her, but quite the opposite. He loved them so much that he sacrificed quality time with them to protect them from threats.

That was his atonement. To make up for all the bad he'd done in his youth by casting out the evil in the world. Like Itachi had done. Now, as he stood watching his daughter run off in disappointment he understood the burden his brother had to face.

Sasuke turned to Sakura who was watching him with sad viridian eyes. He shook his head as to ward off her concern. Yes, what Sarada had said before running off had stung him, but it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. Sarada was allowed to be upset with him. How else would he be able to appease his own guilt? Her anger, her resentment, and her hatred were what he believed he deserved.

He turned, his cloak flagging behind him as he prepared to leave. But the soft touch of his wife's hand caught his shoulders, and he halted in his steps. He turned his head and their eyes held, suppressed emotions exchanged between them through their lingering looks. Her brows drew together with worry and her lips parted.

"Sasuke," she began but never finished as Sasuke shook his head to interrupt her consoling words. Anything she'd say would just be wasted breath. He knew all too well that the abandonment Sarada was feeling was valid...him leaving again, missing almost five years of her life was the reason for her anger. This was the price he agreed to pay when he took on the mission.

Sakura lifted her hand from his shoulder before taking a few steps closer to him. With his back still turned to her, she pressed her forehead against his back, her eyes closed. Sakura wanted him to feel he still had her around to believe in him. She knew and understood the reason for him leaving them and did not fault nor resented him for it. Sarada would understand one day and she'll be the one to help her understand.

Sasuke's head went down; Sakura's closeness removed some of the negative energy that surrounded him. Even now, she was there for him like she'd been when they were teenagers. She believed in him, loved and accepted him. He just hoped Sarada would too someday. Maybe Sakura was right, with time and measured space, Sarada would obtain a level of understanding to not feel abandoned. She would see his absence necessary for her safety and the safety of the village. He couldn't lose hope in that. What else would push him out there in the cruel world?

Every day he was out there he was risking his life. There was always a chance of not coming back to them. If he died tomorrow he wouldn't have any regrets because his actions were not selfish. He lived for Sarada and Sakura; he lived to protect them; he lived for their peace, and he lived for Sarada's happiness. And really, he lived to be the father worthy of Sarada's love and admiration. By setting a proud example of what it took to be a formidable shinobi: dedication and sacrifice.

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a/n: I hope you guys liked this...

Leave a review! It's always great to receive feedback.


	2. In Pain I Think of You

a/n

 **summary:** Sasuke's recent fight with a bingo book criminal leaves him weak and injured. He's concealed himself in one of his hideouts to heal his wounds. While he rests to nurse his wounds, memories of Sarada floods his subconscious. Some memories are ever entangled with silent desires and gut-wrenching nightmares...

angsts* This one-shot will be constant back and forth of flashbacks, I hope I don't give you headaches. ^^

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

* * *

Pain: Sasuke has felt the worst of it but he'd never been the type to writhe in its discomfort or let it slow down his mission. His usual tactic, when met with an unfortunate injury, was to will the crippling effect away by pushing his body passed its natural abilities. Broken arm? He'd pop the luxate bone in place with only a shadow of grimace on his face. Gashing wound? A tourniquet would do the trick. Any wound, despite its severity, could be remedied by him; never a hindrance in his mission.

While it often worked for him, without any posed issues, his unsettling methods would often incur the wrath of his expert medical-nin wife, Sakura.

There had been many noted instances he'd return home less than able: twisted ankle, unattended wounds that had begun to fester, fractured arm, dislocated shoulder, concussion, or all of the above. The injuries were only shy of fatal.

He was no stranger to the dizzying effect of a stab wound as it never stopped him from leaping from high sequoias to high sequoias.

Whenever the Uchiha would return home from a grueling mission, eyes fending off the lethargy earned from unrest and infected wounds, his wife would rush to meet him at the door. Concern layered with poorly suppressed anger claimed her youthful face while she'd serve as his literal crutch. As it was, many of the times he'd returned home, he was on the precipice of consciousness, ready to collapse.

Once aiding him inside, she would properly nurse him back to good health. She always did so with unwavering focus, Sasuke thought. Her brows would knit, lips quirked to the side as she threaded the wire through his flesh to close off his poorly bandaged open wounds. Her anger would show most when she switched her mending utensils. She would slap them against the table hoping that her obvious fluster registered to him.

He had always caught on to her fluster without her telling him, but Sasuke never challenged her while she worked her magic on him. He had always wondered what kept her languid in her practice. Certainly, tending to a man who lacked a basic understanding of the frailty of men's flesh was more deserving of rougher treatment. But no, despite her frustration, she'd remained objective. Of course, a drawn out lecture and scolding nudges to the head would come suit after nursing him.

"Shannaro, Sasuke-kun. You're going to get yourself killed out there. Would it kill you to properly wrap a tourniquet?" She had said once after clearing him up of his severe injuries. Usually, he'd remained tightlipped, fearing that his snarky tongue would land him in deeper waters.

Though, now as he rested, slipping in and out of his blurred and shaky reality, drugged by the sharp pain of the inch deep wound below his sternum, back pressed against the cold and uneven surface of the cave wall, Sasuke wished for the skillful hands of his medical-nin wife. He'd take her disapproving looks and lectures any day over this searing pain.

A short grunt escaped the Uchiha as he adjusted his back against the wall. No matter what position he tried, comfort and relief could not be attained. His hand pressed hard against the bandaged wound hoping to limit the pain's expansion to other areas of his torso. Blood blossomed unremittingly against the white bandage, staining his hand. His zetsu arm was limp at his side. The pain was so great it had paralyzed the entire right half of his body.

He couldn't slant forward to grab his kit that held his pain relieving tablets. In the last hour, he'd taken three. Again, yet another example of his unorthodox methods of easing pain: taking medication at poorly timed intervals. If his wife was here now, she'd blow his head off with her words alone.

In yet another effort, Sasuke lifted his back from the wall, his entire torso trembling from the over exertion. His mouth had opened and his breathing had quickened hoping to ward off the dizzying pain. With his will alone, Sasuke forced his zetsu arm up, reaching forward for the kit; his long fingers twitched as it tried to catch on to the strap of the kit a few feet away.

A pang of pain shot through him, forcing him back to neutral position. Beads of sweat collected on his face, his eyes shut and brows furrowed from the now fading pang. If only he'd taken the sleeping pill then he would have been out cold, blissfully unaware of this crippling pain.

Sasuke was impaled by the enemy's shuriken two days ago. It was a missing-nin from the sound village; he was ranked number four in the bingo books. This nin was somehow associated with Shin. Sasuke suspected him to be Shin's right hand man.

He confronted the rogue ninja a few miles off the border of the Leaf. Sasuke had hoped for a cordial confrontation; to interrogate the ninja without inflicting actual wounds, but that sound ninja proved hostile.

The minute Sasuke discovered him hiding in a thicket, the ninja had lunged at him—three kunais ready to aim. One tucked expertly between his indexes and middle fingers and one held by his mouth. Sasuke had dodged all the kunai's with his own and pulled out his katana to exact a blow capable of limiting the ninja's movements.

But the nin was skillful enough to evade the blade's advancements. With his sound related ninjutsu, he had whistled three notes and that had some effect on Sasuke. The third note was a few octaves above a dog whistle, and it had been enough to impair Sasuke's senses.

The world flipped on its axis—everything was upside down and reversed. When the ninja came from the right, his attack was made to look like it came from the opposite direction. When the kunais were thrown, they appeared to be flying at him from the right, but really they were coming at him from the left. Sasuke, an expert fighter, had caught on to the trick quick before any actual harm had been done. With the aid of his sharingan, he could detect every single movement the nin made in the inverted world and dodged them accordingly. He even maneuvered well enough to inflict his own wounds on the ninja.

It was not genjutsu. If it were, he would have had broken it easily with his mind. No, this was the power of this ninja's ninjutsu. It was crafty; but not so much that his sharingan couldn't dissect and find a weakness in. Within the first ten minutes, after their exchange of Kunais, Sasuke noted a flaw. A kunai meant for Sasuke, before he dodged it, bent at a rippling point in the inverted world, exposing a blemish in the fabric of the ninja's illusion.

Between two trees, a wrinkle pulsed rhythmically. Like a pebble breaking the surface of a pond to offset tiny expanding rings. The wrinkle only became apparent when the kunai bent around it in the heat of battle, prodding it to pulse in disturbance.

This ripple was smaller than a button, but his eyes had caught it—caught its disturbance in time for him to deduce that this wrinkle was an unnatural spectacle in the twisted reality.

Sasuke's plan was to exploit that point of distortion. The area where the inversion occurred had to have been limited; only able to expand with chakra reserves which the nin was losing. The more chakra wasted the weaker the inversion and more apparent the ripple. Sasuke had noted that the ripple itself had its own uses. It was used as a benchmark for the nin; he used it to determine where the inversion's effect stopped expanding.

With this newfound upper hand and Intel, Sasuke remained pokerfaced, never once giving away indication of his acquired knowledge.

When the nin lunged at him with two large shurikens, Sasuke took the chance to drive his katana into the fabric of distortion and, in turn, dismantled the nin's defenses and benchmark point, confusing him altogether.

But something unexpected had occurred. The ripple swallowed up half of his katana and the sharp end had reappeared out of another ripple. Before Sasuke could retrieve the sword, the nin had already thrown the shurikens. During that point, the skilled Uchiha had one of two options: abandon his katana then use his rinnegan to materialize elsewhere without any damage or accept the damages but have his katana to deliver his final blow, ending this once and for all. Sasuke had only one second to make his choice, but that was all the time needed to make his split decision.

The nin halted when Sasuke disappeared, but his shuriken had already been thrown and swallowed by the void. In that short second of the nin's missing offense, Sasuke flash stepped to where he'd left his katana, pulled it out and drove it into the nin's shoulder. The sound of slicing flesh and tearing muscle entwined with the mortifying sound of bones grinding filled the air. Soon after, the inverted reality flickered from its distortion to normal a few times before the world fell back on its rightful axis.

When all was done and the nin had been immobilized, Sasuke went for his interrogation. But all too soon was his victory for when he bent over to question the nin, a shuriken came out of nowhere with impeccable speed, piercing his abdomen with a _crunch._

Sasuke fell back into a seated position, astounded by the turn of events. Unbelieving, his head went down to where the weapon had dug. His vision shook, the shock of pain eliciting his ability to discern colors to waver, flickering from sharp grainy colors to negative and back to normal.

"Wha-"

The nin chortled, his head hung back in his sadistic laughter. "That was my shuriken from earlier. When the ripple swallowed it, it had actually just reappeared somewhere else."

He kicked himself back until his back pressed against a tree. He used it to lever himself up until he was half standing half sitting: "And that shuriken is laced with powdered poison. When remnants enter your bloodstream it will cause intolerable pain. And—" a chuckle escaped him, interrupting his informative gloat to Sasuke. "It takes forever to heal. If not healed or extracted properly from your blood stream, you will die."

Sasuke's right eye twitched as the pain increased. At this point, he could barely keep one eye open. His strength was waning fast and so was his vision. This unfortunate circumstance did not strip his determination. He knew if he let this ninja escape, it was only giving Shin allowance to have his task carried out without ever leaving the shadows. So the thing to do now was to destroy Shin's servants and force him out of the shadows.

Sasuke staggered closer to where the ninja had his back pressed up against the tree. He would have let this man live since he had changed his ways—atoned for his murderous past; this nin's punishment would have been going to prison, but he had pissed Sasuke off and delayed him. This man deserved death.

Sasuke's eyes gleamed red with murder and with one quick move, so quick the naked eye could not detect, he impaled the man through the heart with his katana.

The nin had died with startled—widened eyes. His expression remained unbelieving until the last thud of his heart.

He had killed the man then and yet felt no remorse for his actions. If not for the searing pain in his abdomen as he sat in his hideout hanging on to his slipping consciousness Sasuke would have questioned his slipping humanity. Was he slipping back to his old ways? Was the sadism he'd worked so hard to chase away, the redemption he'd fought hard for, were they all lost to him? Surely, that wasn't it. He had a daughter now. Letting the darkness taint him was not an option anymore.

 _Sarada_. The name echoed in Sasuke's mind with powerful resonance. A transparent shot of her smiling face appeared before him. He knew he was out of it, but still he could not help but reach out to touch the image of his daughter. When his hands went to make contact, the smile that was on his little girl's face flit to a teary eyed grimace.

"Sarada," he managed, his voice breaking from both pain and distraught emotions. When Sasuke closed his eyes he knew he had escaped the conscious world. Was he dreaming? He couldn't tell since everything felt so vivid.

* * *

 _He was home. His house loomed from afar, beyond the slight slope. Sakura was running towards him with a smile and her arms spread wide. His face dropped at the sight of his very enthused wife running to squeeze the breath out of him with her 'hugs.' If you could even call them that._

 _Sasuke's eyes shut passively as he braced for her bone-crushing hugs._

 _"Darling!" Sakura went on her tippy toes to give her more height to rope both arms around his neck. She hugged him for a long time before pushing back to see his face. She still had her arms around him when she pressed a kiss on his cheeks, one more on the bone of his brow._

 _Sasuke welcomed her affection but made no effort in returning it. He was sore, a dull pain pulsing from nearly every area in his body that possessed nerves, all he could manage at this point was a very weak sigh._

 _"Sakura," Sasuke said after he noticed she wasn't going to release him anytime soon. She didn't. It took him having to manually unclasp her tight grip which proved to be more difficult than expected._

 _She let him go, but not without planting a delicate kiss on his nose. "How was your mission?"_

 _"Fine," he replied. His eyes scanned their land for a special little someone he had been eager to see since his foot touched the village. "Where's Sarada?"_

 _Sakura smiled. "She's inside pulling Naruto's head off."_

 _Great. He would have to bare through yet another greeting. With Sakura, they were suffocating hugs. With Naruto—when he paid them visits—it was his glass shattering voice that welcomed him. The only greeting Sasuke could tolerate and enjoyed was the one from his daughter._

 _She knew just how to approach him. The prospect of having one of her hugs made him want to go in even if it meant dealing with Naruto first._

 _When he entered the house with Sakura in tow, he noticed both Naruto's and Sarada's back faced away from him. The two of them were too busy interacting to notice his presence. He remained at the door a moment longer, watching them interact._

 _Sarada had grown slightly since he'd last seen her. She was still small, and in contrast to Naruto's taller frame, she looked much smaller. Even more precious._

 _"Okay, Sarada. Repeat after me: 'Uncle Naruto is bet-ter, come on say it, bet-ter than..." Naruto reached out to pinch Sarada's tiny cheeks to encourage her to mimic him. "...better than daddy-Sasuke."_

 _Sarada's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Daddy's better."_

 _Naruto's shoulders slumped. "Come on, kid. He's not here, you can say it."_

 _Sasuke took that as his cue to make his presence known. With a purposeful cough meant to grab the other party's attention, he entered the room. Naruto's neck turned slowly to meet Sasuke's deadpan expression._

 _"Sa-suke." The name came out in two syllables layered with slight nervousness._

 _"What are you teaching my daughter Naruto?" Sasuke crossed his arms, waiting for his friend to reply._

 _Naruto laughed, rubbing his hand behind his head innocently. "Nothing."_

 _"Hm."_

 _"I swear!" Naruto defended, but his words proved meaningless when Sarada pointed an accusatory index finger at him. Naruto's thick blond brows drew together, upset that he was easily ratted out by a 4-year-old._

 _Sarada smiled, her expression went to Sasuke. For a moment, their eyes locked. Where she looked at him with brimming joy, he looked at her with composed expectance; The sort of expectance found in a father's eyes when he hadn't seen his daughter in weeks._

 _This was it. Sasuke waited patiently as he watched his daughter's large eyes drink in the moment._

 _"Daddy!" Sasuke smiled at his daughter's burst of enthusiasm. He knelt down so he didn't tower over her._

 _She ran to his arms and hugged him, her small face burrowing into the collar of his cloak. She softly spoke a few words into his ear that he only and no one else heard._

 _"I missed you too," he whispered back to her and their hug tightened. Sarada's tight hugs were the only hugs he could tolerate. Not only were they snug and non-restraining, they also didn't break his ribs._

 _When Sarada's soft black tresses brushed against his cheeks, it reminded him of the days he'd hold her infant-sized head close to his face as her gossamer black hair stroked it. The moment was imbued with so much nostalgic peel that Sasuke forgot he and Sarada were not the only two in the room._

 _Naruto and Sakura looked on happily—silent so not to disturb this precious reunion. Sakura was happy to see her daughter melt in her father's protective arms. Although there was a small part of her that longed to have received the same affectionate greeting from Sasuke, she didn't show any indication in her posture and expression._

 _Sarada broke their embrace, pulling away so she could meet his eyes. Sasuke picked up on the curious look in her onyx eyes. He knew she had a bunch of questions about where he's been or what he's brought for her._

 _His hands ruffled her hair into a disheveled mess, provoking Sarada to break away from him. She left her father's arms, but a smile remained plastered on her small face. Sasuke noted that since he's been gone, she lost one of her teeth. He observed those changes with a keen father's eye; an eye he realized was far more perceptive than his sharingan._

 _"Daddy," the tiny Uchiha said, her vernacular only slightly affected by her newly acquired gap._

 _Sasuke's head quirked up, waiting for her to finish her sentence. She was so precious to him that he couldn't even tell her that his head was throbbing and he needed a nap. He'd ignore any level of pain for her._

 _Pain...there it was again; a shooting pain that was so acute it rendered him unable to focus on her words. He couldn't pinpoint where the pain came from. It just hurt as hell. Her childish voice became distant with thick reverb. The small body that stood before him was becoming ghostlike._

 _This specific moment that was occurring where his four-year-old daughter spoke with such fondness was disappearing. She was fading from both his visual and auditory senses. A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach, one often felt when bad news catapulted itself at you. The sinking feeling transformed into a subtle panic as his heart cadence picked up and his breathing becoming shallow._

* * *

 _Then all of sudden, he was no longer knelt beside four-year-old Sarada. A new scene materialized before him. This time, Sarada was further from him—much older and spoke to him with less fondness._

 _"Will you teach me a new Jutsu?" Sarada's voice held little care; she barely kept eye contact. She was older now._

 _Still disoriented from what seemed to him like a time jump, Sasuke looked at her with cow eyes. He hadn't really grasped her question because he was too focus at how much her voice had deepened from its previous pitch._

 _Umm. He was lost, but Sarada didn't seem at all lost. She acted as if this moment hadn't just been a random moment stapled in time's fabric._

 _His brain was still working on processing her question._

 _Sarada's eyes flew to his with silent question when he didn't respond. She wasn't smiling, her features were hardened by what he perceived to be resentment._

 _Where did this resentment come from? Was this hatred he was detecting from her stare? He couldn't tell. Why would it be? Just a moment ago she was staring at him with admiration, her grin wide and inviting. Now when he looked into her eyes he saw himself from 15 years ago. The sad avenger who never smiled because life never warranted him to._

 _Was he the cause of her hardened features? What crime did he commit in this reality? He wanted to ask her all this, but then he realized he still hadn't answered her question._

 _"Of course." Sarada seemed unimpressed with his promise. Seriously, this version of his daughter— cold and too much like his old self—worried him. He feared that if he asked the wrong questions, he'd trigger more resentment._

 _Still detached, Sarada looked up at him. "Will you show me now?" Even her tone was harsh._

 _Sasuke wondered if he could pierce through that abrasive shell. "Sarada?"_

 _She responded with an indifferent glare, one of her brows arching up._

 _"Are you...are you mad at me for something?"_

 _"Nope," she clipped. She was mad him, no 'nope' could ever be said with that amount of sourness and not be a sign of anger. But he didn't push her; if she was mad at him, it was probably because he was gone for too long and the feeling of abandonment had consumed her heart._

 _The best way to correct this was by showing her a few new jutsus and spend some time with her, get to know her._

 _"Hey, hon." Sasuke turned at the waist to see his wife approaching him with a warm smile. Well, one thing hadn't changed. Sakura still loved him._

 _"Hey," he said with relief. Relieved that at least one member of his family hadn't cut him off. But it was Sakura; she was the most forgiving and accepting person he knew. Even when he'd tried to kill her (twice) she still loved him. Thinking about that now made some of his residual guilt resurface._

 _Sasuke reached for Sakura. She looked at him, her head cocking to the side as her brows knit with puzzlement, but her lips still held a smile. He knew it was out of character for him to initiate any kind of hand holding in front of their daughter, but he couldn't help it. He was relieved to have her on his side. She was always on his side. Granted, she was never so weak minded as to advocate for him when he was in the wrong, but when it counted, she was always there for him. He appreciated it more now when Sarada was glowering at him._

 _Sakura welcomed Sasuke's touch despite it being uncharacteristic. She twirled herself with her grip still on his hand. She tucked closer to him, his hands now on her shoulders as she lovingly held it in place, her fingers stroking it in circles absently._

 _Sarada watched this with piqued interest. She'd never seen her parents stand in close proximity, let alone show this much affection._

 _Sakura noticed her daughter's bemused stare. "Sarada, what's wrong?"_

 _"Nothing." Sarada shook her head. Her eyes then swept up, landing on her father. Sasuke's lip pulled to form a subtle smile._

 _When Sarada didn't smile back, he let his fall. The tension wasn't going away. Not in a matter of minutes. Maybe after he taught her a few jutsus, she'd warm up to the idea of accepting him back into her orbit._

 _Sarada's demeanor towards him felt strange. He wanted to see her smile again, to see her smile at him—because of him. He wanted this tension buried so they could move on..._

 _"Mom, dad's going to show me some new jutsu."_

 _Sakura looked up at Sasuke and smiled. Her smile said: "she's warming up to you keep it up."_

 _"That's fantastic. You should show her the clan's favored jutsu: fireball," Sakura beamed._

 _Sarada's eyes widened with excitement. Sasuke sighed. He hadn't hoped to teach her that yet, not now while she resented him this much. It was a jutsu that commemorated coming of age for an Uchiha; there was a lot of pressure in mastering it. He didn't want to be the source of pressure for Sarada. Not now when he was the target of her anger._

 _But the look in her eyes pushed him to reconsider. This was the first time she'd regarded him with a look other than resentment._

 _"Meet me at the docks later." He scheduled for later because a dull pain he could not pinpoint rose. It was present from the beginning but was easily ignored. But now, now it was more noticeable. Dull but escalating._

 _Maybe shutting his eyes for a few hours would alleviate it? It didn't matter, anyway. If in two hours, the pain hadn't subsided he would hold true to his words and meet Sarada for her training. He'd brave through the sharpest of pains for her._

 _Though no pain felt quite as crippling and sudden as this. It went from a dull pain to sharp razor blades slicing his skin._

Sasuke doubled over, the pain so great it seized his sight once more and he found himself back in the cave, with the wound that had rendered him unconscious still throbbing.

Sasuke feared if he let his eyes shut for one second he'd fall victim to yet another lucid dream. The one he'd just woken up from was the most unnerving.

The pain hadn't subsided since losing consciousness; it was more forceful.

If this pain had a taste, it would be the astringent flavor of battery acid. And if pain could be made into a visual entity, it would be flashes of colors altered by a negative filter. The visceral effects of this deep flesh wound proved to be far more than just a hindrance for Sasuke. It was becoming an emotional journey, a cognitive experience exposing him to an inner turmoil.

The flashes of distorted memories intertwined with subconsciously contrived nightmares had woken up an inherent drive to repair the imperfect bond between him and his daughter. His brief yet lucid escapes from reality had given him perspective—or rather a change of perspective.

In his plight, he was taken on an existential excursion occurring exclusively in his psyche. While having poison laced in his blood had its hand in this impromptu conscious awakening, it still was not overlooked by the Uchiha.

Poison-laced blood or not he still had a daughter that needed his presence. Sarada was combating with far greater rivals than he was. He was fighting corporeal enemies while she fought incorporeal enemies; she was battling with perceived abandonment, disappointment, and confusion. All three real and ruthless enemies in life. Relentless they were in their efforts to shatter spirits and inoculate the mind with disillusioned thoughts.

But Sasuke found himself unable to find a healthy medium. He couldn't keep to his mission and be there for Sarada's existential dilemma. But imbued with the principles of what it took to be a great shinobi, Sasuke has learned that the complexities that were the shinobi world always had a counterbalance.

There was a way to fulfill his duties as a shinobi and as a father. There was. He'd sooner find this counterbalance than let his daughter fight her battle alone. For one thing was certain, Sasuke would brave through anything, any dol of pain—obstacles for his little girl.

* * *

a/n:

This was long, I know. I did consider splitting it into three parts, but then I was afraid that cutting it would disturb the flow. Plot and structure wise this one-shot was complex. It went from one flashback to the next with "pain" as the driving catalyst.

Theme: Counterbalance playing a significant role in a father and his daughter's relationship...

Don't be afraid to review; let me know your thoughts on this one-shot. Criticism is welcomed. I appreciate the feedback.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Fireball Jutsu

**A/N**

 **summary:** The academy wants everyone to collaborate with a parent to learn their clan's signature jutsus. This new assignment exposes some of Sarada's biggest insecurities. She wants to learn a new jutsu, but the person she would have loved to learn from is not around. Sakura wrestles with some difficult choices.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

* * *

Sarada held her assignment sheet in disbelief as she made her way home from class. Below the instructions were two lines meant for her parents' signature. Looking at the paper, she couldn't repress the shadow of dismay brewing within her, thick and unrelenting, as her eyes collected and her brain processed the words plastered on the paper. She wasn't upset about the required signature, in actuality, that wasn't even a concern of hers. She could have her mother sign the thing and be done with it. What bothered her was the assignment itself and what it entailed.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sarada groaned. There was no way this was happening to her. Her luck couldn't have been that bad. She folded the paper in fours and slipped it into her back pocket. The out-of-sight-out-of-mind idiom proved ineffective then as the words from the paper continued plaguing her thoughts. She couldn't stop thinking about what her sensei had said after handing out the sheets.

"This is a perfect opportunity for all of you to learn new jutsus rooted in your respective clans and bond with your mom, father, aunt, uncle—whoever available to teach you." Bond with her father? The man she hadn't seen in so long that she wouldn't be able to pick him out in a line-out. Was she really going to rely on him to be present for her now when he has never been before?

Sarada noticed Boruto a few steps ahead of her. His back was facing her with his head hung low. She quickened her pace until she fell into step beside him.

"So your dad's going to show you the rasengan?" She said without preamble. Boruto's expression hardened, but he said nothing, his focus still on his moving feet.

Sarada nodded to herself, turning her eyes to the path in front of them. She bit her lower lip as she thought of something else to say; something sensitive enough to show him that she empathized with him. Like him, she was not looking forward to this assignment. It sucked that the only decent thing they ever bonded over was the prospect of not having their dad's around. Yet the sad thing was, despite their similar situations, Sarada envied Boruto.

In her mind, she translated his situation as a lesser version of her own problem. Sure, his dad wasn't around as much as he'd want him to be around, but at least he _was_ around. And when he couldn't be around, he had a valid reason for it. It wasn't because he didn't want Boruto anymore or didn't love him, he just had to carry the village and attend to official duties.

She understood the seventh's reason for not being around for Boruto, but she could never understand her own father's absence from her life. He was never around to give her an appropriate enough reason to why he wasn't around or hadn't been around. When she'd press her mother for an answer on the issue, she would tiptoe around the truth, relaying everything but the truth to her. It was all a frustrating game that did little to relieve the young Uchiha. What it did was feed her insecurities more, making her head swell with even more questions—questions that would be shelved in the back of her mind because no one ever had the grits to give her the unsolicited truth. Her mother was the one who always shooed her inquiries away by providing her with sketchy lectures that were dressed with enough sagacity that kept Sarada from asking any more questions.

From observing her mother's shifted expressions, knitted eyebrows revealing worry lines, she knew she was hiding something. Some truth was held from her and Sarada always found her mind falling in a downward spiral, trying to decipher the rest of the context. One thought that had beset the young Uchiha's mind for ages: was that her father changed his mind, and didn't want the responsibilities of having a family—a daughter?

That thought alone had always left her feeling hollow inside, and she would always cast it off to the dustier parts of her mind where it was left to linger alone, growing and feeding on her insecurities.

"I'm guessing your father's going to show you a few jutsus." Sarada turned to meet Boruto's eyes. She tried reading his intentions, because there was no way he'd say that unless he was ignorant of her predicament. Everyone knew she hadn't seen her father in years; Boruto had to have known as well.

"Well, no," she answered, her tone doing well to hide the disappointment she felt. Boruto nodded in silent understanding.

The two walked in silence for a while. Things weren't looking great for either of them. They needed to learn new jutsus, but the people capable of showing them—or rather the people they wished was around to show them, weren't around.

"Maybe I'll ask my mom," Sarada said with newfound enthusiasm.

"She knows any cool jutsus?"

"Well, yeah. She's the strongest Kunoichi of Konoha."

"She is?"

Sarada's eyes widened at that question as if he'd just asked her what a doorbell was.

"She's trained with the fifth Hokage who was also one of the legendary Sannin."

"My dad did too," Boruto added with a slight smile.

Sarada's fisted a hand up into the air to better emphasize her point. "One punch from her and you're pudding."

Boruto stuffed both hands back into his pocket, his expression falling back into disinterest. "So what? The assignment wants us to present new jutsus. Not punch a hole into the planet."

"I guess I'll just ask her to teach me a few then," she told him, never losing the enthusiasm in her tone.

The two had reached the point where their paths branched off into different directions. Sarada's manor went one direction, Boruto's home the other.

Sarada smiled faintly when she thought of presenting the paper to her mom. She looked at Boruto who still seemed dispirited, and wondered if he would try asking his father for help.

"Ask your dad to teach you the rasengan," she said before walking off the other direction. She hadn't said it loud, but Boruto had heard her and his blue eyes sprung to hers in surprise.

* * *

When Sarada got home, she noticed her mother piling a bunch of clothes into a large basket. She pivoted on her heels to walk the other way. Her steps were light and measured as she headed for the door, wanting nothing to do with the chore her mom was working on. She didn't want an invite to fold laundry.

She grabbed for the door, turned its knob, her eyes slamming shut when a creak escaped the hinges of the door as she pulled it open. Three more steps and she'd be safe from the chore.

But on the second step, she was caught. "Sarada." Sakura's voice came.

Sarada froze in her steps, her eyes widening with anticipation and her lips curling up to reveal an expression of unrepressed disgruntlement.

 _Please don't make me fold._

 _"_ Would you mind giving me a hand?" Sarada's shoulders fell. She hated folding laundry, she hated it more than washing dishes.

"Do I have to?" Sarada said, her voice whiny.

There was amusement in Sakura's tone when she replied back. "Of course not."

Sarada smiled, relieved that she had the choice to opt out.

"I've only been on my feet for 13 hours doing every other chore around the house. What's a few more hours of laundry, right?" This was what her mother excelled in after medical ninjutsu. Instilling guilt. She wielded it like a kunai knife, tucked it in her weapon sack, using it on others whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Sakura's head turned to show her profile, but she wasn't making direct eye contact with Sarada when she next spoke. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

Sarada bit the bait, her eyes rolling upwards in her obvious defeat. She appeared beside her mother, then grabbed a white shirt from the pile. She ignored the subtle victory grin displayed on her mother's face and started folding.

"I have this assignment," she began.

Sakura looked at her sideways, curiosity in her viridian eyes.

"What is it?"

"I need to learn a new jutsu for a class project. It has to be a clan originated jutsu."

"Your dad was planning on showing you the fireball jutsu," Sakura said. Sarada turned to look at her mother.

"That would impress all the other kids in class. The fireball jutsu is a pretty badass jutsu. I've seen it done a few times by your dad." There was a dreamy look in Sakura's eyes when they went up. Her smile made modest as she bit her lower lip.

"Maybe if he remembered he had a daughter," Sarada bit out. "It's been how long since he's left?" It sounded like a rhetorical question, and knowing her mother's knack for evading questions like that, she'd probably take it for a rhetorical question. Sarada felt tension moving to her fingers and she was folding must faster and less gentle.

Sakura stopped folding. A while back, before Sasuke left them for his dangerous mission, she had promised him one thing. That while he was gone, she would help Sarada understand his sacrifice. She'd abolish all the hate and feeling of abandonment and resentment in her, so when he returned, she wouldn't be so cold with him—that she would understand enough to forgive him for the years he'd been away.

She studied the hurt look in her daughter's eyes and realized how hard of a job it would be to uphold that promise. Sakura sighed.

"Sarada, listen." Her hands went to Sarada's shoulders, her hold on her was gentle but firm at the same time. Sarada could feel it breaking down the tension that had made her body gone rigid.

Sakura's eyes softened on her daughter, her voice falling into a consoling whisper. "Your dad loves you." Even though her voice was soft then, her claims were delivered with such conviction it flushed all the anger out of the young Uchiha. Now all Sarada felt was confliction. Accepting her mother's words weren't easy especially when the truth was as clear as day: her father wasn't around. He was never around, so how then could her mother offer her that line. If true, wouldn't he be around, here to teach her?

Sarada sniffled a bit. "It's hard to believe it when he's not here to confirm it, mama. I don't get…I don't understand."

"Sara, honey. Believe me, when I tell you this, for I know your father more than anyone. He loves you and cares for you and would do anything for you. I swear."

Sakura pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "He doesn't have to be here now to confirm his love. Real love is not so easily confirmed by words. It is best seen through actions. And honey, his actions speaks his love in far greater volumes than words could ever do."

Sarada thought about that for a while, letting it sink in. It sounded wise, but it didn't make sense to her. The whole thing sounded like yet another attempt at steering her away from the seeming truth. What _were_ his actions in displaying his love? She couldn't remember the last time he hugged her, tucked her in bed, or smiled at her when she did something to make him proud.

What actions? Sarada knew not to ask her mother this. It wouldn't get her any answers—any _real_ answers, anyway. So she feigned understanding by returning her mother's hug and nodding her head against her warm chest.

She was done asking questions only to receive half ass attempts at the truth. She was done wallowing in her insecurities and letting it thwart her focus at reaching her dreams. Sarada's patience had waned and left her with this new resolution. To accept her predicament without any question, because questions were poking holes in her heart letting in all the hurt and insecurities.

Sarada broke her mother's hug, offered her one last reassuring smile before taking out the paper tucked inside her back pocket. She unfolded it and handed her the paper. Sakura took it from her, eyes narrowing and her lips curling up into a puzzled smile.

Sakura's eyes ran left to right as she read the paper, her smile widening with every line read until her teeth were exposed and her brows arching up to her forehead in excitement.

"This is perfect!"

Sarada nodded with a smile. "I know and I want you to teach me, mama."

Sakura's smile fell a little. "You do?"

"Yes, mama. I want you to teach me some cool jutsus."

"But—"

Sarada's smile hadn't left her face, but it wasn't as pronounced as before. "I want to bring in the best jutsu ever."

"I told you," Sakura said. "Your dad—"

"But he's not here!" Sarada snapped. She quickly composed herself, then added, "I can't wait another year to learn a jutsu. This assignment is my final project before graduating to become a genin. If I don't have one ready, I can't become a genin."

"I'm sure he'll be home by then, Sarada."

"Mama." Sarada held out both hands in front of her. "If I don't have a jutsu by the end, I can't graduate. I'll never forgive you or dad if I'm kept from graduating."

Sakura's brows knit together in worry. This placed her in an uncomfortable spot, one that seemed to leave her in a stalemate. She didn't want to rob either her daughter or husband of a chance to bond, but if she refused, she'd deny her daughter the chance to advance in the shinobi field, and possibly worsen the rift between her and her father. However; if she accepted, she'd deny Sasuke the chance of teaching their daughter a new jutsu and bonding with her. There was no easy answer for her, whatever choice she made, she'd hurt the two people she loved most in the world.

Sakura closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath that made her chest expand. When she reopened her eyes, her lips hinted up to form a hesitant smile, then said: "I really want you to share this with your dad."

Sarada ripped the paper from her mother's hand and stormed off. Sakura didn't flinch since she expected that reaction. Sarada was young. Her comprehension of the world and how it worked was still very limited, and because she lacked the sagacity to unravel the complexities of the world, her anger and frustration were justified.

There was no point in forcing her to accept her father's absence as something necessary. Sakura knew all too well the dangers and ineffectiveness of forcing a person to adopt a mindset; she had learned with Sasuke when she tried forcing him to turn away from the darkness. Instead of doing as she begged him to do, he did just the opposite. He turned away from her words and ran straight into the darkness, arms spread out and head hung back as he embraced the cold yet alluring aura of the darkness.

She didn't want to do the same to Sarada. Perhaps the allowed freedom and space would help smooth the tension between the two. Though she did not waver in her response to Sarada, she still wasn't sure if her choice was the right choice, if there was even a right choice to make anyway. It was certain, in her effort to mend the broken bond between her daughter and her husband, she was putting a wedge between herself and Sarada.

Because Sarada took her words with little value, Sakura's plight was hardly solvable with words. To Sarada, Sakura's lies were just lies with the semblance of truth. This made convincing her that her father's absence had nothing to do with her harder. Sakura needed provisions infallible enough to erase all remnant of doubt in Sarada.

Sadly, the only proof substantial enough in washing away Sarada's insecurities was Sasuke's presence. Sakura stood holding the fabric she had been folding, she was looking out in front of her with eyes swimming in pools of white forlornness. Sarada had ran into the house, no longer in sight.

She wanted to follow Sarada, tell her everything she wanted to hear, but in doing so she was going against Sasuke's wishes, and also inadvertently jeopardize Sarada's well-being. She placed the folded laundry back into the basket before walking into the house.

Sunlight from outside streamed through the crevices left by the swaying curtains; the shaft of gilded rays stretched its warmth across the many open spaces of the large manor. In the shafts of light, specks of dust danced with fervor, undisturbed by the soft current of air slipping through the little cracks on the window. Sakura removed the bonnet she had been wearing from earlier, placed it on the arm of the couch. Her eyes swept the house; she was sensing for Sarada's chakra pattern, sensing to see her mood. And from the vibes she was receiving, Sarada had cooled down since storming out.

With a sigh that expanded her chest, the pinkette crossed the room and went up the winding staircase leading to the second floor rooms. When she reached Sarada's door, her hands refrained from knocking.

Her ears pricked up like a cat pricking its ear at a distant sound. Her eyes shifted, brows knitting as she turned to press an ear to her daughter's door, listening for anything other than silence.

The sound of pen scratching against paper was all she heard. Here and there, a sniffle from Sarada would disturb the natural beat of the pen hitching against the paper. Sakura peeled her ears from the door and knocked.

"Sarada, I'm coming in." Sakura announced before opening the door. She peered her head into the room. The curtains had been splayed aside to allow a bright blanket of the sun's rays into the room. She squinted at the brightness and walked in, closing the door behind her.

Sarada hadn't looked up from what she was doing, but her eyebrows had furrowed, dipping down behind her glasses.

"I'm signing the slip." Sarada bit out, her eyes still on the paper before her. "I'll learn a new jutsu on my own. I just emailed Boruto. Since he and I are without attentive fathers we'll find a way to learn a new jutsu."

Sakura swallowed the anger that rose in her chest, but some of it leaked into her voice when she spoke next. "You are being ridiculous."

"Am I?" Sarada challenged, finally looking up to meet her mother with a glare that resembled her father's it made Sakura's heart jolt in her chest.

Sakura shook her head with disapproval. "You need a parent's signature; keep up the sass—"

"What sass? You act like me wanting to know why my father isn't around is sass?"

"No, but you making ludicrous statements about him is not only disrespectful but slanderous and untrue."

"What would you know about the truth?" Sarada spits out with venom, her eyes widening with unrepressed rage.

That had been it for Sakura. That was the last straw; she had been trying so hard to contain some of her anger to give Sarada a chance to hash out her feelings, and maybe progress into some semblance of understanding. But the tone Sarada was taking with her and the ill-mannered way she regarded her father was unacceptable.

Sakura's shoulders shook with anger and before she knew it her fist was colliding with the wall. The infrastructure shattered and crumbled, as little pieces of the dried cement sprinkled onto the floor until a crack sidled its way up to the crook of the ceiling. The crack, split opened, went up, haphazard, as other parts of the wall, one that had been spared of Sakura's super strength swelled open with cracks.

Sarada jumped from her bed and evaded a thick piece of falling ceiling. The flat shapeless slice of ceiling snagged on the fabric of her comforter, forcing her bed to wobble against the weight as more ceiling bits fell like rain.

Realizing the destruction she had made with her fist, Sakura's eyes reopened, widened; she was already regretting unleashing her anger. She hooked an arm around Sarada's arm—turning, her viridian eyes darted, as she searched for an escape before the entire manor leveled and buried them.

Her eyes landed on the window which had now been shattered from the walls coming apart. Taking a literal leap of fate, Sakura jumped out the window with her daughter held tightly in her arms. They escape with only a few scratches and dusted hair and dusted skin.

* * *

They stood a great distance from the house that was still caving from the impact. Sarada's mouth slacked open, and Sakura, who'd been kneeling down, watched on as the house came down on itself. When the final wall fell, Sakura's head fell down to the ground. What the hell will her husband say when he returns to find the home he grew up in destroyed?

"Mom," Sarada said, her voice unbelieving, matching the look in her eyes. "What did you do?"

Sakura shook her head disbelief. "I think I just destroyed our home."

Sarada ran to the house, Sakura followed. They stood on what remained of their home, their eyes scanning the area with desperate hope, searching for anything that survived.

Sarada kicked through the rubble and revealed beneath it was a picture of her father in his younger years. She picked it up and as she did, the frame enclosing the picture broke away. The broken glass shattered completely as the frame keeping it intact snapped off.

Sarada's hands shook as she looked down at the picture in her hands. When the frame broke and the glass the picture hid behind shattered and fell away, a true picture exposed. Sarada discarded the picture of her mom that was taped over the real picture, and held the image of her father closer to her face. It was her dad; he looked the same as the other image, but now it wasn't her mother that stood beside him. Now, standing beside him were two other people: a man, despite his white hair, looked the same age as her father. His teeth were jagged and revealed into a furtive grin. Sarada's thumb brushed over some dust and as the dust scratched off the image, a woman with red hair was shown. Her face was framed by a pair of thin rimmed glasses just like Sarada's.

The young girl's heart stopped in her chest as the cool realization hit her. Was this woman?

She gulped, eyes turning red-rimmed as the image stared back at her with an unwavering taunt. Her fingers trembled under the picture, making the image shake and blur.

Sakura appeared behind Sarada and noticed the picture in her hands.

"Sarada," she began, but before she could defend the picture Sarada swiveled on her heels to meet her mother's eyes. Her own eyes pricking with tears as the picture in her hands shook.

Sarada's face twisted into a tearful grimace as she tried to form words. When her lips couldn't stop quivering long enough to let words escape, she looked up at her mom with questions burning in her onyx eyes.

Sakura cringed at the expression she wore, it was something she'd never seen. So much pain mixed up with betrayal.

"Who's…who's this woman with dad and why is she wearing glasses like me?" Sarada had calm herself down, but her voice was still subdued by hiccupped breaths.

Before Sakura could answer, the last remaining wall of the house fell with a crash. The ground beneath them shook and Sakura buried her face in her hands.

"I'm still paying off the loan," Sakura said, her words coming out muffled with her face still buried in her hands.

Unexpectedly and before answering Sarada's question, the pinkette collapsed on top the pile of rubble.

Sarada blinked back tears. "Mom?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

So I drew some inspiration from some of the panels in the manga. I wanted to somehow incorporate Sakura destroying their home; I really wanted to show Mrs. Uchiha's badass strength. Anyway, this was written with the intent to add another layer to the rift between Sarada and Sasuke. I intend to continue writing one-shots with unrelated plots, but now in many of the one-shots, it'll be in the back of Sarada's mind to find her father and ask him who this woman is.

This one-shot will have a part two, or better said, it will have another one-shot alluding to it. I do intend to have Sarada completing her final assignment to become a genin at some point (in future one-shots). Still to be determined who she learns the new jutsu from.

I do apologize for taking so long to update; spring semester is no joke.

AND thanks to this snowstorm, I was allowed some time to update! I hate snow, but it had my back for once.

 **Thank you for reading and please leave me a few words on your thoughts on this.**


	4. Nightmares

**A/N**

 **summary:** Sarada has a nightmare and Sakura is there to silence her worries.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto

* * *

Night had fallen upon the land, dressing it with an ominous veil. The clock by the bed ticked away with timed rhythm, a sound that blended with the nothingness and silence of night's cloak of mystery. There was a shift of colors that occurred in the sky, as ebony softened into indigo. The moon, shone among an ocean of stars, held its apex position as its rays claimed the land.

It's cold—well, if cold had a face, it would seem it from the warmth of Sakura's bedroom. The pinkette stirred till she was now facing the other half of the bed which was now empty and unruffled because "he" wasn't there.

She left her curtains apart to expose the expanse of her backyard. Though she knew he wasn't coming home soon, somehow leaving the curtains aside to allow the image of outside show tricked her into believing his all too familiar form would appear in her line of view someday.

How long was it since he's been away, a year? No, it's been longer than that.

"Mama?" Sakura's head turned to see a small Sarada standing at the door, her purple blanket clutched in her hands. She held onto that blanket so tight that Sakura thought she'd rip the seams.

Sakura lifted her torso up partially with most of her weight placed on her elbows. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yes, about dad," Sarada said, her eyes falling to the floor. Her grip on the blanket loosened as parts of it now trailed the stained wooden floor. Sakura shuts her eyes for a second before opening them with newfound resolve.

"Come here, Sara." She pulled herself up into a seated position and waved Sarada over. Sarada complied, her small figure scurried to the edge of the bed. In a precious effort, the young girl forced herself to climb the tall king sized bed. Sakura couldn't help but smile at her daughter's struggling form as she clung to the sheets for help.

It was Sasuke's idea to buy a large bed because he found Sakura to be a restless sleeper and believed they'd both enjoy a good night's sleep if the bed stretched out more. Sakura had protested, but mostly because she didn't think she was a restless sleeper, she just loved snuggling up to him.

"Now." She pulled Sarada into her arms, her chin pressing on the little girl's disheveled hair. "What's your dream about, hm?"

Sakura felt her daughter take a shaky breath before beginning. "Papa gets eaten by a bear."

Sakura blinked. Eaten by a bear, huh? Well, one thing was certain, their daughter had a vivid imagination to think Sasuke could be outwitted by a bear. That must have been one powerful—a jinchuuruki maybe, that took the form of a bear.

If only Sarada knew how powerful her daddy was she wouldn't have to worry about him, especially against a bear. "So papa gets eaten by a bear?"

"He put up a good fight." Sarada quickly defended. She twisted her body so that she could meet her mother's eyes, "but the bear was too fast and he ran out of kunais."

Sakura smiled, her hands went to tilt Sarada's chin, so that she could press noses with her. Sarada still looked shaken by her dream, but her mother's unworried eyes pacified most of her fears. She felt no reason to cry as she stared up at her mother's warm viridian eyes; eyes that held as much benevolence as it did beauty.

"Listen, Sarada. Your papa, he's capable of fending off a few bears. He can take on an army of them."

Sarada's eyes widened in disbelief, but she didn't say anything, so Sakura continued. "Even if a dragon-sized bear attacked him, he'd survive."

"Really?"

"Really."

Sarada's head went down for a minute in thought. "Then why hasn't he returned?"

Sakura felt her chest splitting in half at her daughter's distraught tone. At that instance, she didn't have a direct answer for her, not without divulging the entire truth to her; that her father was on a classified mission, a dangerous one and if the wrong party found out, they'd all be in danger.

She couldn't tell Sarada any of that, so she skirted the truth. "He's on a mission and will be back real soon."

Sarada squirmed in her arm, exasperated. The small girl expelled a flustered sigh before looking up at Sakura with pensive eyes that looked so much like Sasuke's it made Sakura's heart cartwheel in her chest.

"But… but, what kind of mission is he on? He's been gone for a long time." Yet again, cornered, Sakura could not give her daughter a sound answer. She considered lying to Sarada; fashion up a great story believable enough to snuff out of any of her little girl's suspicion.

But that was far from simple. Sakura knew lying to her daughter was wrong. Even if she could whip up a nice lie, there was the chance that Sarada would spot it as a lie and challenge her for the truth. Like her father, the young girl was very perceptive— not to mention, Sakura was a terrible liar. If she lied, Sarada would surely take notice. Even with her sharingan unawakened, the young Uchiha possessed the uncanny ability to catch veiled truths. Her perceptive eyes would easily detect a shift in body language and tone.

"He's," Sakura paused to find the fitting words. "—on a mission…one so secret, I can't speak it aloud."

Sarada made a doubtful face. "I'm not falling for that one, mama." Sakura sighed, why did her daughter have to be a genius?

A blatant lie might just be enough to stave off Sarada's rapidly growing curiosity. "He's protecting someone." Which, in context, wasn't a lie. He was protecting someone—he was protecting an entire village, really.

That reigned in Sarada's curiosity. "Really, who?"

"I can't tell you that because the person he's protecting has asked him to keep their identity secret." Okay, now she was driving further from the truth, but that was only natural since her daughter was a bag of questions.

"But I won't tell anyone," Sarada pouted. Sakura chuckled at her daughter's pouting face. She playfully pinched Sarada's pouting lips, her forehead coming down to press against her daughter's forehead.

Sakura teased. "I can't trust you won't tell Chouchou."

"I won't! I promise." Sarada held out her pinky for Sakura to shake. Sakura laughed, remembering how when she and Sasuke were younger, traveling from village to village, she had made him pinky shake with her once.

Sakura grabbed Sarada's entire hand into hers. "No pinky promises." She kissed Sarada forehead.

"Will you tell me?"

"Nope."

Sarada's hands crossed over her little chest, her expression pulling into a disappointed frown. "Can papa tell me when he returns?"

Sakura chuckled, her eyebrows arching up. "You have a better chance getting it out of me than with your dad."

Sarada rubbed her eyes with the back of her fisted hands to stave off the nipping exhaustion that weighed her eyelids. A yawn wanted to come through, but she extinguished it with a sigh. "I think he'll tell me."

Sakura slid back down under the covers, taking her sleepy daughter with her. Sarada was a stubborn one, she would push back the sleepiness till daybreak.

"He'll tell me." Sarada repeated, but this time, a yawn had betrayed her, and her eyelids were drooping down now. With her thumb and index finger, Sakura gently forced Sarada's eyelids shut.

"Sleep," Sakura calmly commanded, her own eyes closing.

Sarada fell asleep in her arms, and for that one night, Sakura's large bed hadn't felt so large and empty anymore.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

By the way, Sarada is 7 here. The one-shots, like I mentioned in the first chapter, will be unrelated, and many will jump back and forth from very young Sarada to preteen Sarada. They will, however, be connected in theme.

 **Thanks for reading and [please] don't forget to leave me a review telling me what your thoughts were.**

Our papasasuke hasn't been in the recent chapters, but don't fret. A Sasuke centered fic is on its way...Just give me some time, I'm working on the perfect little fic that will soon be ready for your wanting minds.


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